


Baby, I Just Want To Dance.

by frozenfoxfire (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Oral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:18:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/frozenfoxfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik dance in a club. Really, that's it. Oh, and there's sex, I guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I Just Want To Dance.

**Author's Note:**

> written for no prompt, but while listening to two straight hours of David Guetta's Who's That Chick, which I highly recommend the soundtrack while listening. The lyrics provided the title.

The beats are as loud as possible, and Erik can almost feel his bones rattling to the music as he pushes his way through the crowd, baseline annoyed at the random flashing of lights. The shirts he was shoved into are hot and tight, and he would like nothing more than to rip them from his body, level the club and leave, but he made Charles a promise, and so here he is. It's difficult to find the telepath at first, but he need only look for the throng of shouting women to find his friend. They're clumsily bouncing up and down out of time, trying to catch a glimpse of the man behind the bar. It's difficult, but Erik's able to push his way through to the front, leaning heavily against the heavy oak counter, reveling in the normal light, almost as if this one spot is an oasis from the flashing mess behind him.

Charles is in full force tonight. He's not wearing anything fancy, his deceptively simple clothes accentuating his natural beauty; his white button-up shirt is risque with the top few buttons open, a vest clinging to his body and tight black slacks keeping the rest of him very slim-looking. Erik stares at him for a moment, barely breathing, watching the telepath laugh and dish out another little drink before his head snaps over, noticing his friend.

"Oh!" he cries out, but Erik can't hear his voice over the music. He can, however, read those lips quite well, and finds himself swallowing hard as Charles hustles over to him, grinning like a madman. "You came!" he shouts, leaning in closer to Erik, who can smell the sweat of his body, the liquor on his breath, even his damned hair product (that he swears he never uses), and he's swallowing again. Luckily, Charles is too busy frowning and snorting at him. "What in God's name are you wearing?" he laughs.

"Raven dressed me," Erik replies, irritably, shifting uncomfortably again. He can feel the weird fishnet shirt she squealed over with delight upon finding chafing against his body, and quite frankly he hates it. He scowls at Charles, who just laughs again. Charming bastard.

"Of course she did, you'd never have left the house dressed like that otherwise. Though, I cannot honestly say I'd ever imagined you in leather pants."

Erik shifts again, his face growing hot, just about the top of his cheekbones. "For damn good reason." The pants are too hot and too tight, just like everything else on his body, and the damn fishnets itch, and the black vest and turtleneck without sleeves make him feel ridiculous. "I feel like a _fool_."

"Lighten up!" Charles replies, grinning widely, laughing and leaning back as he makes an overarching gesture to the entire room. "Haven't you noticed? Everyone else looks just as foolish, if not more so. Just relax!"

"That doesn't make it _better_ , Charles," Erik snarls, glaring.

"I'm just thrilled you _came_ , honestly," the telepath replies, barely even registering Erik's comment; he leans towards the girls still thronging around the bar and yells something, but Erik barely hears it. He leans closer, frowning, but Charles' mouth is suddenly right up against his ear, and he can feel his hot breath on his skin, making him shiver. "Look, I have an idea. Come on."

It's difficult to push through the rush of people again, and Erik loses sight of Charles as he pushes his way out of the well-lit oasis and into the dark pulsing crowd. Erik rushes, trying to catch a glimpse of the man again, fighting his way through dancing bodies, but finds himself standing dumbly in the center of everything, his eyes hastily adjusting to the sudden darkness and flashing lights, the song on the speakers filling every thought in his head.

_I'm here._

There's a spark of clarity as Charles intrudes, and Erik looks to his left to see the dim figure of his friend, beaming wide. Without another word, Charles reaches over and takes Erik's hands, before spinning and pressing his back up against the taller man's chest.

_Dance with me._

"Charles-" Erik protests, spluttering, in the telepath's ear, but Charles shakes his head and he can hear the smile in his voice, even in his head.

_Trust me. I'll show you the way._

"But-" _I-_

_Relax. Trust me?_

Reluctantly, Erik relaxes very slightly. Charles nods once, curtly, over his shoulder at his friend, and then looks forward, listening to the music. He nods to it slightly, his body very slowly starting to dance to the beat before matching the pace, his hands tightly holding Erik's and moving his arms along.

_Like this. Move to the beat. Even if you don't like it._

_What, moving?_ Erik replies with a slight scoff. The laughed reply even sounds clear and amused in his head.

_No, the song._

Erik watches Charles' body move, watches the telepath loosen and move, his hips swaying and snapping to the beat hypnotically, and he feels himself start to match it, letting the overbearing music overtake his thoughts. He leans closer to Charles, pulling his hands away and replacing them on the telepath's hips, matching his movements as best he can. His body is getting warmer with every second, and he can't really be sure if it's the song, or the heat in the air, or this bloody clothing, or the way he can smell the shampoo in Charles' hair, mixed with his sweat.

Everything is intoxicating, and as he slowly lets himself melt into the music and movements, he presses his body completely against Charles', rolling with every hip thrust, feeling the smaller man's body meet his in a way he never could have imagined could be sensual, and he presses his mouth to the telepath's shoulder and simply lets himself be taken along for the ride.

After a song or three pass (they all sound the same, to him; loud bass, obscured vocals, electronic instruments. In a word, obnoxious) he can't take it anymore. The heady scent of Charles' body, the way the telepath's shirt is sticking to him, and the way his own body is tingling and hot- it's all suffocating him. He clenches his jaw, turning Charles on the spot.

His bright blue eyes are darkened in the dim lighting, but Erik can see them open wide, an eyebrow cocking. A quiet feeling of confusion touches his mind, but he brushes it aside. His thumbs hook under the hem of Charles' pants, fitting themselves into the grooves of his hips and pulling him closer; Charles' arms drift up and wrap around his neck, his body flat against Erik's as they writhe to the beat.

Charles moans softly into Erik's ear, his lips hot and wet, and Erik can't help but growl in reply. His head is numb, lost in the music and sensation, and his body is tingling and hot, bordering on desperate. He lets out a low hiss, trying to breathe, but it won't come to him. Everything's lost in noise and friction.

He's not sure how he manages it, but the next second of clarity finds him pressing Charles up against the wall hard, in a cramped, deserted, dark little hallway between the two main rooms. The techno is still easy enough to hear, as they're only far enough into the hall to get out of the great throng of people, but Erik honestly cannot recall how they'd come away from the dancing platform. He only knows that his mouth is on Charles' neck, that the man is arching up into him and moaning loudly, almost completely swallowed by the beats surrounding them. He only knows that his hands are pinning Charles' hips to the wall, and that the telepath can't seem to decide between fumbling with the clasp in the front of his pants or digging his hands into the front of his shirt.

The music and the heat and the friction are still numbing out every thought in Erik's mind, beside the crazy animal lust underlining every movement: mindlessly, he bites at Charles' neck, sucking at his sweaty nape, his hands tearing open the man's clothing as quickly as he can. His fingers explore Charles' body, nails dragging over nipples and down his torso, and Erik revels in the cacophony falling from his lips as he arches and writhes under him. Breathless moans and desperate, nonsensical babbling mingle with the beats, and while Erik can't hear what's being said, it turns him on, nonetheless.

He rips the front of his pants open, finds his hard cock and pumps at it, listening to the entirely new set of noises Charles emits, and then he can't fucking take it anymore and drops to his knees, wrapping his lips around Charles and pushing him against the wall. Erik feels Charles' hands work into his hair, and he leaves one hand pinning the telepath's hips to the wall, the other working his own pants open and pumping viciously at himself. He comes long before Charles does, making a terribly sticky mess in the palm of his hand, but it doesn't matter; the moans that come from his throat only incense the telepath further, and he jerks into Erik's mouth desperately, the grip in his hair tightening.

Erik's now free hand wraps itself around the base of Charles' dick, the slick hot cum in his palm eliciting another jerk and moan, and it's obvious Charles is trying very hard not to lose control. Erik teases him further, his tongue running over and under the throbbing member as slowly as he can, his hand matching pace with short jerks at the base.

It doesn't take much longer for Charles to cry out, thrusting his hips, fucking Erik's mouth, his hands pulling at his hair. It's even less time before he's gasping, arching up, a hoarse yell leaving him; Erik manages to swallow once before pulling away. He stands, wiping his face clean; panting, Charles wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him, breathlessly. He smirks down at the telepath, who has to rest his head against Erik's chest for a moment, catching his breath.

"I think I understand why you like this God-awful place so much," Erik murmurs in his ear, and he can feel the hoarse laughter against his chest.

_Does that mean you'll be back, then?_

"I make no promises." He grins, letting go of Charles after another deep kiss. "I have to go clean myself up."

"Yes," Charles agrees breathlessly, but Erik doesn't hear it, pushing his way back into the throng of dancing bodies. It takes him the better part of ten minutes to finally find the bathroom, and when he returns to the dance floor, Charles is nowhere to be found.

When Raven asks the next day what he enjoyed the most about the adventure, Erik simply smirks.


End file.
